What Have I Done?
by Trolley
Summary: In a shootout gone wrong, Steve accidently shoots someone close to him. Can he deal with his feelings of guilt while trying to solve a series of murders? Meanwhile, can CG save Jesse? (Hey, with me writing, who else would it be?) ;)
1. Default Chapter

Jesse Travis lazily lifted his head in greeting to his best friend and partner entering through the back of BBQ Bob's.  
  
Steve Sloan looked around the very sparsely populated restaurant and then back at his partner. "A little slow?"  
  
Jesse only grunted in answer and turned his half-way focused attention back to his game of Solitare.  
  
Steve chuckled at his friend, who seemed to barely be able to keep his head up. "Pull another double shift at the hospital?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so. I haven't really been keeping track though." His head then dropped until a frantic woman bursting in through the front door caused him to jump a mile.  
  
The girl wildly ran up to the counter, wildly screaming, "Help! He's trying to kill me! Hide me! Please help! Help!"  
  
Steve was immediately out trying to do something for the woman, while motioning for Jesse to wake up and call the police. Steve attempted to calm the woman down when an enraged, yet none-the-less nervous-looking man burst through the door, brandishing a quivering gun.  
  
"Sir, drop the weapon," Steve ordered, shielding the shaking young woman.  
  
"Ya-ya-you stay outta this, mister," the man stammered in a Western drawl. "This is between me and my Lulabel!"  
  
"For the last time, my name is not Lulabel!"   
  
"Okay, sir, I'm the police." Steve slowly retrieved his ID from inside his jacket. "Now put down the weapon.  
  
The man got a maniacal gleam in his eye and cocked his gun, which was still aimed at the woman, who still cowered behind Steve, who decided it would be a good time to get out his own gun.   
  
Jesse came out of the back just in time to see the shooting start and hear the woman cry out in pain. He quickly ran over to her and moved her away from where Steve and the other man seemed as if they were about to have a Western style shoot-out.  
  
"Sir, just lay the weapon down, and everything will be alright." He imitated the shooter's movements by circling, albeit dangerously close to Jesse and his patient.  
  
"Man, I have to do this, you don't understand!" He looked as if he was about to break down right there, not to mention pull the trigger. And when he did, so did Steve. And it didn't stop there.  
  
Jesse, rather oblivious to the fact that he was in the direct line of fire, was busy tending to the shoulder wound of the woman when a bullet slammed into his chest and knocked him to the ground.  
  
Once the berserk man was detained by the cops and the paramedics were coming, Steve realized what had happened as he knelt by the bleeding, unconscious friend. He had shot Jesse. He was sure the bullet had been from his gun. Each of them had only shot once, and the other guy's had barely missed Steve. But when Steve shot, the way the two where circling, Jesse just happened to be right in the way. It had happened so fast, Steve didn't even know how. "Hang on, Jess," he encouraged as tears started forming in his eyes.   
  
Sometime amid the chaos of cops and paramedics, Mark rushed in, followed by some more paramedics. "Steve," Mark shook his son out of his shock, "Steve, what happened?"  
  
Steve starred as the medics hauled Jesse's pale, unconscious body away on a stretcher. "I-I shot him. I shot Jesse." The words came out strained and lacking emotion. "It-it was an accident, I-I didn't see him. I was aiming for the other guy, but I shot -- Jesse."  
  
Mark pulled his shaking son, who was close to tears, into a comforting hug. "He'll be alright," he consoled, although he wasn't even sure himself.  
  
************  
  
Yes, yes, I'm still working on Coming to America, but I just couldn't let this story bouncing around in my head fizzle out! So, whaddaya think? 


	2. The Shocking Truth

When Jesse was wheeled into the ER of Community General, Susan Hilliard just happened to be one of the nurses to meet him. A stray doctor caught her as she nearly passed out upon seeing Jesse's almost lifeless condition. She was quickly moved out of the way of the scene and revived.  
  
Dr. Gabriel Peterson took charge of Dr. Travis. He called out a series of orders, which included a good many "STAT!"'s. Jesse was operated on for an amount of time that no one was keeping track of, then wheeled off to recovery. Dr. Peterson took off his blood-stained gloves and headed too he Doctor's Lounge, where he knew Mark Sloan always waited for news when someone close to him (usually his son) was in a life-threatening situation. When he entered the lounge, he was greeted by the anxious, exhausted faces of Mark, Amanda Bentley, Steve Sloan, and Susan Hilliard.  
  
"Gabe," Mark greeted, "Please tell us you have good news."  
  
"Sort of." Gabriel took a deep breath as he prepared to explain the situation to the victim's destitute friends. "The bullet nearly punctured the left ventricle, and that had to be repaired, he lost enormous amounts of blood, and I really thought we were gonna lose him. It was really touch and go in there for awhile, and we had to bring him back a couple times. But the little guy looks like he has a good chance of pulling through."  
  
"Thanks, Gabe." Mark stood up and patted the large man on the back. "When can we see him?"  
  
"As soon as we get him into a room." He gave the friends a warm smile before he left the room.  
  
Mark sat down on the couch next to his son, placing a strengthening arm around his weak, trembling shoulders. "Are you gonna be alright?"  
  
Steve jumped at the sudden question an squeaked out a faint, "Yeah."  
  
"Steve," Amanda consoled, taking his large, clammy hand into hers. "Steve, it wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he stammered, rising from the couch. "I-I have to use the restroom." He muttered an excuse for leaving the room.  
  
Mark and Amanda looked at each other worriedly. "I don't know who I should be more worried about, Steve or Jesse."  
  
***  
Steve sat down in his truck, not even bothering to close the door. He needed to sort things out. His head was all foggy and clogged. He was just coming to terms with the fact that he had shot his best friend. *I shot my best friend. I shot Jesse. That's the worst thing a cop can do, shoot one of his own men. But he wasn't even one of my own men, he was just an innocent civilian trying to help someone else. But it was an accident. But that doesn't change the fact that Jesse's in a coma and may never wake up. If he doesn't… how could I be so stupid!?* The usually level-headed lieutenant flew into a rage and slammed his had into the dashboard with all his might before totally losing it and sobbing his eyes out.  
  
Mark knew where to find his son. He also knew when was the right time to go to him. He walked out into the parking lot and found Steve's truck, the door ajar. The elder Sloan once again put a comforting arm around his troubled son's shoulders. As Steve's sobs receded, Mark gently offered, "Ready to go see Jesse?"  
  
Steve lifted his tear-streaked face to his father's and nodded weakly. 


	3. The Progress

Mark entered his young protégé's room and was slightly shocked by all the miscellaneous paraphernalia attached to and around his small body. He had been through this so many times with his son. But with Jesse, it was kind of different. Granted, Jesse was like a son to him, but Steve's accidents definitely caused him more pain, understandably. But it still was different. This kind of stuff wasn't supposed to happen to people like Jesse! With Steve's profession, Mark could almost expect things to go wrong. It still didn't lessen the pain when it did happen, though. But Jesse was a doctor, helping people who are struggling for their lives, not narrowly clinging to a thin strand of his own. There was really no comparing the anguish he felt for the two separate men who were such pivotal parts of his life. He gently squeezed Jesse's hand, offered a few encouraging words, and left, motioning for Steve and Amanda to come in.  
  
Steve's heart pounded as he entered the small room, accompanied by Amanda. It was pretty much a blur from there. He remembered Amanda saying a few things to Jesse then leaving. Then he pretty much poured out his heart. Not too much, just how sorry he was about what happened, and how he knew Jesse would be alright. He vowed to Jesse that he would find out what was going on, if, indeed, he had a case. It actually wasn't too weird, a guy chasing and trying to kill his girlfriend. There just had to be more to it, though…Steve's mind wandered back to Jesse as he gave his friend's hand one last squeeze, and left, feeling much better.  
  
***  
"How are you doing?" Mark came up behind his son, who was walking along the beach, thinking, and lay a hand on his shoulder.  
  
Steve jumped out of his reverie. "Hey Dad. I'm okay, just thinking."  
  
"You've been doing that a lot lately." The truth was, Mark had had his share of thought over the past day or so himself.  
  
"I know, I'm fine." Steve knew his father didn't believe him. "Really."  
  
"Hmm." Mark didn't believe his son, and he knew he knew it. "I invited Amanda over for dinner. I do hope you'll join us."  
  
Steve chuckled slightly. "Thanks for the invite," he teased. "I'll be there. And stop worrying."  
  
"I'm your father. That's my job!"  
  
"Dad, don't you have a dinner to be making?" He said it in a good-natured way, but he hoped his father would take the hint.  
  
He did. "Okay, I'll leave you alone. But you better not do too much more thinking. Wouldn't want to burn the house down."  
  
"Hey!" He gave his retreating father a playful punch in the arm. He knew his dad was right. And for the first time in the past two days, Steve really smiled.   
  
******************  
I know, I know, it was a stinkin long time to wait, and for hardly anything! But I think that, due to recent life stresses, my muse has gone on vacation. Little wimp...Oh well, I'm sorry, but I know where it's going, so it shouldn't take tooooooo very long...I hope.... 


	4. ...Some More Progress

Mark, Steve, and Amanda sat around the table at the beach house, trying to enjoy a nice meal before they got back to the hospital.  
  
"I talked to Captain Newman, bu he won't let me on the case." Steve was very pale, and he wouldn't eat.  
  
"What case? I thought the guy just came I shooting at his girlfriend?" Amanda tried to pick at her food and finally managed a few bites of salad.  
  
"Well, that is how it seemed. But when we talked to the girl, she claimed that she had never seen the guy before. But I am going to work on this case. I don't care if I have 'personal connections.'"  
  
Mark was also absently pushing food around on his plate. While still worrying about Jesse, was also troubled about Steve. Mark knew exactly how his son was going to go about this whole situation. He would work himself to less than a frazzle. While he wasn't trying to track down someone or some piece of information, he would be at Jesse's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. Steve could easily have a physical or emotional breakdown. As much as Mark wanted to say all this to his son, he just couldn't seem to be able to put it into words. He couldn't think clearly. None of them could. Eventually, it was decided that they give up of dinner and get back to the hospital. Steve needed to talk to the victim and then get back to the precinct and find out what he could about the perp.   
  
Jesse was still stable, although in a coma. Susan was now in the room with him, holding his hand and gently stroking his hair. It was very hard on her, seeing her boyfriend like this. But somehow, she just knew everything would be alright. As she was about to leave, she thought she felt a slight, barely perceptible squeeze. A surge of excitement swelled within her as she thought, for an instant, that he may be waking up. But then she realized that she had either only imagined it, or it was some kind of reflex action. Susan gently lay his hand back on the bed and sadly left the room.  
  
Jesse's mind was all in a haze. Minds do tend to do that when they're in a coma. He didn't know anything except that he wanted to wake up and get out of this. He could sense when people were in the room and talking to him. But it was all muddled, and this was only when he wasn't fully unconscious.   
  
***  
Steve was flooded with paperwork once he arrived back to the precinct. All this was mostly an attempt by his authorities to keep his mind off of the case that he most wanted to be on. However, he looked up any files he could on this presumed "crazy boyfriend." Well, as it turned out, the guy certainly was crazy. He was an escapee from a mental institution. Steve slammed a fist on his cluttered desk. He was back where he had started! It was no case, just some crazed maniac.  
  
On his way back to the hospital, Steve was surprised, yet very annoyed, to get a call on his cell phone telling him to report to a crime scene. When the very grumpy leiutenant arrived at the scene, he was greeted by his partner, Cheryl Banks.  
  
"Man, you look horrible."  
  
Steve glared at her and only grunted.  
  
"I'm sorry." She led him over to the body. "How's Jesse?" Cheryl, along with a few of the other officers at Steve's precint, had developed somewhat of an attachment with the surprisingly endearing, yet quite annoying, Jesse Travis.  
  
"Stable. I guess, I mean I haven't seen him in awhile, I need to get back to the -- hos…pital." His sentence was broken up by a pesky yawn.  
  
"What you need is some sleep."  
  
Steve ignored Cheryl's comment, all though he knew she was right. "What have we got?"  
  
"Sharon Hill, female, about thirty-five years old, gunshot wound to the head, been dead about an hour. Neighbor just called it in, said she heard some shouting, screams, and a gunshot. I just wish she could have called sooner."  
  
"Did she see the man?" Steve asked, nodding a greeting to the chief county medical examiner would had just arrived on the scene and giving her a look that asked how Jesse was. Amanda smiled slightly and nodded an affirmative.   
  
"She's right over there." Cheryl pointed to a nervous-looking woman leaning against a tree. "You want to go talk to her?"  
  
"Let's do it," Steve replied, allowing his partner to lead the way with a gentlemanly flourish.  
  
"Ma'am."  
  
The woman jumped a mile at Steve's slight touch.  
  
"Ma'am, I'm Lt. Sloan and this my partner Cheryl Banks. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright."  
  
The girl, who looked about Jesse's age, nodded, but didn't say anything.  
  
"You're Sharon's neighbor.  
  
She again nodded without looking up.  
  
"Did you see the person who shot her?"  
  
She seemed to cringe at the word 'shot,' but remained cooperative. "Yes. I had never seen him around before." Just as Steve was about to ask for a description, the woman added, "I saw him run across the street and I think he stopped behind that building."  
  
Steve started and nudged Cheryl, telling her to get him some back up, he was going in. "Thank you ma'am, you've been a big help." Then, to his almost instantly formed 'team', "Let's go." 


	5. The Awakening

Mark was there to greet his son when he casually walked into the ER with a bloody bandage wrapped around his hand.  
  
"Steve, what happened?" Despite his obvious concern, Mark was relieved that his son wasn't being wheeled in on a gurney.  
  
"It's just a scratch, Dad, I'm fine."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that."  
  
Mark didn't know whether to laugh or to be worried about his son, who was falling asleep throughout the examination.  
  
"If you can wait just another hour or so, I'll drive you home. You can sleep in the Doctor's Lounge." He felt that it would be alright to hazard a joke. "The sofa should be very comfortable, Jesse's worn it in enough."  
  
Steve, in his near comatose state, didn't get it. "No, no, Dad. I have to be here for Jesse when he wakes up," he slurred.  
  
Mark sighed. While still concerned for his son's health, he realized how much this meant to him. Well, he could just as easily sleep in Jesse's room as in the lounge. "Fine, you can stay with Jesse until I leave, but you're coming home with me, alright?"  
  
"Yeah, sure Dad, fine," Steve mumbled, walking smack into the doorjamb on his way out of the room.  
  
******************  
Steve slowly, wearily, entered Jesse's room and prepared to stay until his best friend woke up. He didn't care how long it could be, he knew it was what he had to do. He had brought along a little paperwork, although with no intention of getting anything done. He was so worn out, he feared he would fall asleep as soon as he sat down. But just looking at Jesse, lying so helpless and near death, ignited the fire of anger within himself, and that was what kept him going. Steve took Jesse's hand in his and gently stroked his hair, too tired to once again pour out his emotions to his young friend.  
***  
Jesse could vaguely sense a presence in his room as his mind slowly wavered on the edge of consciousness. He wanted to wake up, but he knew his body wouldn't allow it. But maybe, if he tried real hard… his hand weakly began to grip the much larger one holding his. His mind returned to consciousness, and his body followed. "Steve?" he croaked, barely audibly.  
  
The slight whisper of his name jerked Steve out of his half-sleep, and his eyes rested on the now open ones of his best friend. "Jesse?!" he exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair. He did, and stumbled to the door. "Dad! Jesse's awake!"  
He then rushed back to his confused friend's side.  
  
"What happened?" he whispered, rather clichely.  
  
Steve tried to calm himself down so he could talk to Jesse. But how would he explain what had happened?  
  
Mark burst through the door, having not heard Steve's full cry and wondering what was wrong. "Steve, what's--Jesse!" He also rushed up to his friend's bedside.  
  
"Wow, you guys sure are happy to see me!" he tried to joke. "Wh-what the heck happened?"  
  
Mark took over the explanation. "There was something of a shootout at BBQ Bob's, and you were shot." He glanced over at Steve for the rest of the account.  
  
"Oh." Jesse looked around confusedly. "How long have I been out?"   
  
It was Mark and Steve's turn to glance at each other confusedly. "Um, I'm not too sure. Haven't really been keeping track of days lately," Steve mumbled.  
  
"It's been two or three days, maybe closer to a week. You had a lot of people worried about you, my friend." Mark patted Jesse on the shoulder and walked to the door. "I think you two fellows need to talk." With that, he left the friends alone.  
  
"What would we need to talk about, Steve?"  
  
Steve lowered his head into his hands and rubbed his temples while trying to get through this. "Jess, my dad didn't tell you who shot you."  
  
Jesse looked like he was thinking hard. "Oh yeah, I remember. It was that crazy guy after his girlfriend."  
  
This was just making it harder for Steve. "Well, there was a crazy guy, and he did start shooting, but the bullet that actually hit you, it-- Jesse, I shot you," he finally spit out. "I didn't mean too! The bullet was on the way to the guy, and you just got right there, and--I'm sorry." He hung his head in shame and embarrassment.  
  
Jesse tried to take all this in. Steve had shot him? That couldn't be right. "Huh?"  
  
"Jesse, I shot you. On accident. But if it wasn't for me being so stupid, you wouldn't be lying there right now. I'm so sorry."  
  
Jesse began to understand. "Steve, it's alright! It wasn't your fault! And I'd much rather be lying here right now than in the ground!"  
  
Steve tried to laugh. "Jess, you don't know how close we came to losing you."  
  
"Well, sorry, you didn't," he joked again. "Looks like you're stuck with me, for the time being at least!"  
  
"Yeah, you're a tough little guy!" Steve playfully rumpled his best friend's hair, knowing that he hated it. "So no hard feelings?"  
  
"Aww, of course not! As long as I get to recuperate at the beach house!"  
  
"Oh, you're full of it today, aren't you?"  
  
"Hey, I haven't talked for three days! What did you expect?"  
  
Steve shook his head, happy that his friend would, as far as anyone could tell, be making a full recovery. "Well, I'm sure that my dad wouldn't have it any other way. I supposed you'll have full reign of my Pay-Per-View again."  
  
Jesse chuckled and tried to hold back a yawn. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
Steve, coming to the realization that he himself was also about to collapse with exhaustion, decided that he better leave. "Well, I guess I'd better let you get your rest." He tried to stifle a yawn of his own. "I'll come by to see you tomorrow."  
  
Jesse weakly nodded and almost immediately drifted off to sleep.  
  
"Good night, Jess."   
  
*************************************************************************  
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Okay, so I gave you chapter five! Sorry it took so long, but I was planning on finishing it first, but my plans never work out right... Anyway, you're lucky to get this, tehe! I hop it's good! Let me know! Thanks! 


End file.
